Hearts of Heroes: A Valentine Fanfic
by SilentChelsea
Summary: What happened between the time of Chris' team being exterminated and Piers confronting him again 6 months later? Piers' search for Chris runs deep.


The day had been long. Piers had spent the day doing the same thing he had been doing the day before, and the day before that. It was the same thing he had been doing for the past five months. Checking around small villages and towns in and around Edonia. The call had come in from an anonymous source, stating that they had seen him staying at a local bed and breakfast. Purportedly, he had been there for the last week and was working as a bodyguard for a big shot business man from out of the country. The guy was supposedly a member of the Russian Mafia. Piers didn't want to think of Chris working for some scumbag mob boss.

Chris had gone missing from a local hospital that had been under the direction of a local government body that was working as an ally for the B.S.A.A. There was no East European branch of the B.S.A.A so there was no proper place to take Chris after Piers had drug him out of the building.

He checked his watch. It was nearing on midnight. The source had said that Chris usually checked in to the place just after midnight. He glanced over at his back up. It was James Childs. He was wearing plain clothes, the same as Piers. James had a single hand gun in the small shoulder bag laying across his lap. Piers had is MP-AF strapped around his torso and tucked carefully under a heavy coat. His eyes darted around the room, taking everything in while his mind drifted back to what had happened.

He recalled the woman named Ada. She had been found hiding the back of the City Hall building. She wore a blue dress, a long and vivid red scarf wrapped around her throat and slung over a shoulder. She had not given off the aura of a damsel in distress and had turned out to in fact be the villain. He hadn't known it at that time, of course, he had just met the woman and she was alone. She wasn't a victim but she needed to be escorted out of there. The team had surrounded her, keeping her safe and confined. She had taunted Piers.

"Your boys seem to have their hands full." She played with him.

"Ma'am, just try to stay out of the way." He had responded without looking at her. There was something about the woman that he did not trust. Her attire was not that of a scientist or a politician. The cut of the dress went deep, front and back, revealing much more skin than most women would dare to show. She was obviously in a position of power. The fact that she had a gun proved that but she was no agent. She carried it loosely, her hands held it like a tourist with a cardboard camera. He wanted to remove her of the weapon but did not think he had the authority. Chris had already told him to keep an eye on her, he was not to challenge the captain without foundation of suspicion.

As they progressed they were ambushed by the J'avo mutations known as Strelats and Nepads. Team-members dropped like flies around them. Chris had tried to make an advancement to the rear when Ada had told them of another path. Piers had migrated from his position as sentinel beside her and made his way to Chris to point out the holes in the woman's story, leaving the rookie Finn to watch her.

As soon as he had made his was to Chris' side, they were separated from the rest of the team by a set of wrought-iron bars. Ada had disappeared on to reappear on the far side of another set of bars. Piers instantly knew that it had been a trap and his gut had been right. He cursed inwardly as he and Chris began to pull at the bars trying to free the men from the giant rat trap as the cat approached.

"Something to remember me by." The woman sneered as she tossed a round object that then burst in mid-air, shooting out shrapnel in all directions. The men inside the cage began to howl in pain. He looked to Chris, looking him up and down to see if he had been hit, but his captain looked unscathed. He then looked to his own body and found he had also been missed. Chris began to throw himself at the bars, trying to get in to them but Piers could already see the men inside taking on the forms from the entrance of the building. They were crystallizing. Heavy cocoons were forming over their forms as the virus rapidly spread through their bodies.

"No!" Chris screamed.

"We have to move!" Piers could already see the tiny fracturing of the shells of the beasts in the cage. They were transforming. They would be upon them quickly. He grabbed and pulled at Chris, panic flooding his system for the captain. He could see the sweat beading off the back of Chris' neck while a shaking was visible in his arms and legs. The finely-tuned eyes observed the state of shock taking over Chris. Piers tugged on Chris' vest, trying to get him out of the way of danger.

The creatures, their former teammates, beat down the bars quickly and the former Finn beast bore down on Chris. Picking him up and jostling the fully grown man as though he were a child's doll or a scarecrow full of hay. This way and that, Chris was tossed around. Piers opened fire, fear for the man he loved flashing hot in his mind. A clip was gone before Piers had even had a chance to count the bullets as they were fired. He ejected the empty magazine and snapped in another clip.

Chris was tossed to the ground in front of him.

"Chris!" Piers rushed to him. He was on the ground, not moving. Piers had felt the impact of the captain striking through the ground. He wrapped his hand around Chris' collar and began to drag him, firing at the Nepad closing in.

The monster continued to limp through the spray of bullets. Piers panicked as he felt Chris go limp under him. He pulled a flash bang from his waist and threw it. It struck the ground and flooded the room in a bolt of sunlight. Piers took the time of the flash to hook his arms under Chris' armpits and dragged him backward quickly. He grunted as he moved, backing down the hallway.

He saw a door and was forced to let go of Chris to open it. He pulled another grenade from his belt, this time it was an incendiary grenade. He threw it at the closest creature. Flames erupted in the small hallway, heat beat at his face as he kicked the door open and picked Chris up and continued to drag him out.

Outside, daylight offered little help. He had to drag the captain another fifty yards before he found a vehicle. It was a beat up, little two door car. He broke the passenger's side window and unlocked the door. He maneuvered the unconscious man into the seat and slammed the door closed. He raced around the back of the car to the driver's side. He could see that one of his former teammates had broken through the door and was lumbering out the door way. Piers pulled his Anti-material Rifle and took careful aim. He shot right at its face. The strange casing it had burst and downed the enemy. It blocked in the rest of them and allowed him time to get into the vehicle and quickly hotwire the automobile with Chris' knife.

Chris had mumbled unintelligently the whole way. Through his ear piece, Piers had relayed the information of the attack and Chris' condition to the local HQ. He had been instructed to take Chris to a hospital near the British Embassy.

Piers checked his watch again. Twenty minutes had passed while he had been reliving the day Chris had lost himself. He looked over to James who was reading a newspaper, flipping the pages. He put a finger to his ear where a small earbud was resting.

"Still no sign." Piers said, queuing up the radio. He looked to James as he spoke. James shook his head slowly and then repeated the same movement Piers had.

"None yet, sir." Piers heard in his ear piece.

"Fifteen more then we call it a night." Piers leaned back, picking at the pages of the book he was pretending to read.

They had no reason to believe this source was correct where all the other sources had been incorrect. Chris was not here, just like he hadn't been in any of the other bed and breakfasts or the other bars or the other underground clubs or anywhere else. A thought drifted through Piers' mind.

'What if he had just pretended? What if he had just lost his will to fight after losing his team? What if he had pretended not to remember so he could retire?' Piers' heart ached at the idea of Chris sneaking off back to America without telling him. He knew that Chris had been doing this for a long time and had heard rumors that after his mission on Africa, Chris had been thinking on retirement-But while he could believe those rumors, he refused to believe the idea that Chris ran back home because he couldn't handle it. His fingers grew taut, his knuckles flashing white over the edges of the book as he remembered watching over Chris while he was in the hospital.

Chris had never looked so small, so helpless. Piers had refused to leave his side. The nurses and doctors would periodically check in of Chris and a few would try to coax Piers to go to the embassy for the night and sleep but he refused. Chris had been in a coma for over three weeks and not once did Piers leave his side. He sat in the worn chair next to the bed, watching for any sign that he was waking. His eyes watched the coma take its effect on him. Chris began to lose weight. First it was just around the face, then everywhere. The next thing he noticed was the spasms. There were slight but glaringly obvious to his trained eyes. The lose of muscle mass was beginning. Chris' fingers and forearms would jump and twitch from the neglect. Piers would massage his hands and arms. At night when the temperature dropped, he would warm small towels but microwaving them in the cafeteria and placing them on Chris' arms and legs, trying to keep the blood flowing.

At night, when the activity of the rest of the hospital would calm down, Piers would count Chris' breaths. He would breathe three or four times perfectly, then there would be a little hiccup and the next breath would be out of sync with the rest.

A small smile appears across Piers' face as he recalls the night the heat in the building went out. One of the nurses had come in and informed him. She brought in extra blankets for Chris but Piers didn't think that they would be enough. He had stripped down to his shirt and boxers then climbed in the bed next to Chris and pulled the blanket up around them. Draping an arm and a leg around Chris, he hoped to keep him warm while he slept. Being there, he was able to lay his head on Chris' chest and listen to his heart beating. In there was a strong heartbeat. Each pump was steady, the heart of a warrior inside the sleeping beauty.

That was the first night that Piers had slept through in the three weeks since Chris had entered the coma. The rhythmic beating had put him to sleep. He awoke the next morning to the 6 a.m. nurse trying to take Chris' pulse around Piers. She had a smile on her face as she told him the heat had been fixed. He had nodded and got out of the bed, but the next night he was back there, sleeping next to him.

It was the same every night from then on until the night Chris had woken. Piers had climbed off him quickly and stood back.

"Chris, you are awake!" He had been too groggy to hide his enthusiasm. Chris had looked at him with a blank look in the dim lights. "I'll go get a nurse." Piers shoved his legs through his pant legs and rushed to the nurse' station. When he returned Chris was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Now don't try standing up dear." The nurse said, trying to get him back into the bed. "You've been in a coma for almost five weeks. Do you know where you are?" Chris shook his head. "How about how old you are, hun?" Chris again shook his head.

"Chris… You are forty." Piers offered.

"Who are you?" Chris asked.

"Chris it is me, Piers."

"Piers?" Chris turned the word over in his mouth before looking up at his partner. "Sorry, I don't know ya, buddy."

Piers' heart sank. The rest of the night had been a numb flurry of doctors and nurses until Piers was told that Chris wanted to be alone. That was the night he had left the hospital.

Piers slammed the book down on the table. The ear set in his ear queued up.

"Everything ok, Nivans?" James asked. Piers threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in the direction of James. He didn't say anything as the lump in his throat wouldn't allow him.

He slapped a hand over his mouth and leaned forward, sliding his hand up and over his eyes.

Behind his eyelids was the image of Chris in that bed. In his ear was the beat of his heart. In his chest was an ache that he feared would never be quelled.

"Heads up Nivans, we might have our man." The voice sounded in his ear. Piers' head snapped up and saw a burly man in a black coat over at the desk. The older woman behind the desk was talking to him, a mild look of dislike on her face as she wrote something down in a little notebook before sliding it across the desk to him and turning her back to him to fetch his room key.

"Is it the captain?" Piers said, the words were foreign in his mouth. His eyes began to sting with tears as he ran his eyes over the back of the man. This man was of Chris' build, his height though slightly heavier.

"I cannot confirm from my vantage point." James answered. "Should I move in?"

"Negative. Hold you position." Piers' fingers began to tingle as a shiver went up his spine. The man held out a hand to receive the keys and turned toward the stairs. He had a large bottle of liquor at his lips as he turned. A thick stubble was growing around his chin and along the entirety of his jaw line. Piers couldn't tell if it was him. He had never seen Chris with any sort of facial hair. His legs began to twitch and he was moving before he knew it. He could hear James talking in his ear but the pound of his heartbeat drowned out the chatter. He was walking toward the man before he could think not to. He crossed the small lounge area they had been staked out in just a few strides. He reached out and touched the man's shoulder. The man whirled around, shrugging off the loose grip.

"Keep off me, pal." His words were slurred but their eyes locked for a moment.

A white hot flash of fire covered Piers' entire body. Everything in him screamed, shrieked in pain and longing. An excruciating ache washed over him like a wave of cold sea water. His limbs moved slowly as time seemed to crawl by, each second stretching out longer than the last. His mind was empty, like an old attic that had been once full of boxed memories. Everything he had wanted was gone, the moment that he was in empty.

"Chris…" His words barely passed his lips, words barely above a whisper. The lump in his throat swelled and threatened to tare him open, split him in half.

"Huh, wut?" The words were soaked in alcohol, his breath wafted along his words and overpowered Piers' sense of smell, shaking him from his daze. He shook his head trying to gather himself.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else." Piers said and turned away to find James just a few feet behind him. He gave a quick jerk of his head toward the front door. The walked in stride and exited the lounge.

"Wasn't him?" James asked, sticking the newspaper under his arm and hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

"It was him." Piers said, not blinking, his eyes drilling through the upstairs window as the man passed by it on his way to his room.

"Are you sure, it didn't look like him."

"It was him. I would stake my life on it." Piers said and grinded his teeth together, fighting back the pain. Chris had not recognized him again.

"What do you want to do?" James asked, coughing lightly in the night air.

"We are going to go back to HQ, get the guys and be here tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" James exclaimed. "That isn't nearly enough time to-"

"We are bringing him back, one way or another." Piers stated turning away from the bed and breakfast, not willing to look back. His mind raced in details about what tomorrow would hold. 'I am not going to lose you again, Chris.' It was a promise that he would not break.


End file.
